Sunrider academy morale skin#

Rather, behind his eyes seemed to be a dull but vast flame that rumbled on into eternity. Not the shark eyed stare of a soulless psychopath or the wild eyed gaze of a man fuelled by vengeance and adrenaline. A thin, hard, hooked nose and sharp features gave him a slightly avian appearance and his off blue eyes seemed possessed of a strange intensity.

He was of wiry construction and of a paler complexion than his sun kissed brother, almost pallid, almost. This second man had well-trimmed jet black hair, cut relatively short and slicked back to reveal a high forehead. Indeed, they scarcely looked like brothers at all. He was a man of average height, standing at five feet eleven he often looked far shorter than that when stood next to his brother. The owner of the second voice meanwhile remained standing, one hand elegantly holding his wine glass, the other wedged into a trouser pocket. This man was the first, and eldest, of the Marius brothers.

Sunrider academy morale skin#

Only the hard, cracked, dry skin of this man’s hands, a man who could not have been much more than 30, hinted at the hard life he had led. His broad shoulders and broad chest could have given this man an overbearing, almost intimidating countenance were it not for the fact that his every movement seemed slightly floppy and almost charmingly ungainly, that and the slightly rosy tint to his cheeks. He was a tall man, about six feet three inches tall with messy blond hair and a glint in his blue eyes that spoke of kind hearted mischief. Grinning like a Cheshire cat the owner of the first voice flopped down in a comfortable looking leather armchair. “Really?” Retorted the second voice, with a tone to match his raised eyebrow. “Ah sobranol, all of the great taste of booze, none of the nasty after effects.” Said the first voice in a tone etched with warm sarcasm. “Or at least it would if this had any real alcohol in it.” “The same goes for you brother.” Came the second voice, not allowing the reproach to interfere with his pouring. “Night before a big battle, can’t have you hung over on the bridge.” “You shouldn’t be drinking that stuff you know.” Said one voice, even as its owner held out his own glass for more. The pleasant tones of lightly amused chuckling voices could be heard over the sound of the evening’s second glasses of wine being poured.